


Never Look Back

by natacup82



Category: Justice League (2017), Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-18 12:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natacup82/pseuds/natacup82
Summary: Bruce is undercover trying to uncover a drug ring when he spots a familiar set of broad shoulders.He has the resources to make them all new identities, there’s no need for anything so amateur hour.





	Never Look Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mashimero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mashimero/gifts).



Bruce doesn’t generally create new identities to go undercover. He’s got his tried and true _Matches Malone_ cover and more often than not it does the job. But this time it’s not going to work. Infiltrating a notorious club in downtown Gotham to sniff out a drug trafficking ring isn’t really Matches Malone’s thing. So Bruce creates a new one, someone who would fit in to the club scene with new money, a fresh mid-life crisis and an overwhelming desire to party. 

He clears his calendar and dyes his hair blonde, leaving most of his roots brown and frowns at the effect in the mirror. “I look like an asshole,” Bruce says, grimacing at himself in the mirror as he puts in the green color contacts. With the untucked button front shirt and khaki pants, the whole look reads as generic which fits Bruce’s needs. He doesn’t want to draw any attention to himself. 

The first few nights are a bust; he spots minor drug activity in the clubs but there’s no evidence of the sales being made in the clubs or by the clubs, just customers bringing drugs in and using it in the bathrooms. Bruce keeps at it, annoyed that he has to keep the stupid hair for another week when he finally makes it to one of Gotham’s less well-known clubs. It barely has a sign out front and Bruce had to know someone who knew someone to even get access to the club, a perk of this new cover at least, but with a few names dropped for the bouncer he’s in the door. 

It’s not what Bruce expected; it’s as dark as any club in Gotham and the music is just as stupid but there’s something slightly off. Along the back wall, there are a series of doors and people keep going in and out so Bruce decides to investigate. He doesn’t go directly to the doors, stopping at the bar to grab a scotch and watching the room before making his way closer. 

Bruce isn’t sure what he expected to find behind those doors, maybe people doing drugs, maybe bathrooms but nothing can really prepare him for what he sees. 

“What,” Bruce mumbles stopping short as he steps into a hallway inside one of the doors lined with windows that looks down on a couple having sex, a couple he is sure he saw enter one of the other doors. 

Someone nearby chuckles, and Bruce nearly stiffens at his own lack of situational awareness. He’s seen plenty of people having sex, the surprise shouldn’t have distracted him so much. “Are you new here?” 

“Yes,” Bruce says, calming himself and settling into his cover. “This wasn’t exactly the kind of party I expected when this club was recommended.”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Is this not your scene? We have other kinds of partying here but this,” at that he tilts his head toward the window, where the woman is really overdoing it on the moaning, “is a pretty big part of things here.”

“It’s not _not_ my scene,” Bruce says, because that seems like the kind of hedging this cover would do. “I haven’t been here long enough to see anyone I’m willing to grab a room with.”

The man laughs again and says, “Give it time, you’re new. But if you want to try some party favors you have to go to one of the doors at the other end of the wall.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Bruce says, nodding to the man and still not giving his name before heading out and down the wall. He passes what he now realizes are four sets of doors, two sets to watch, two sets to fuck, before he hits single doors and finds five people at a bar doing lines. ‘Gotcha,’ Bruce thinks and heads in. 

*

Bruce has to go back five times over the course of a month before he gets a clear view of what’s flowing through the club. He sees plenty of use, plenty of incredibly casual public sex but very few open drug transactions. But there’s a pattern of people who come in, don’t use any of the party rooms and leave with bags when they arrive with none.

He builds his cover’s reputation, a middle-aged former frat boy who’s post-divorce and looking for a little bit of fun. Bruce drinks, does sleight of hand to pretend to do lines of coke and to avoid getting any questions about his attendance at what he now knows is a little bit of a sex club he let’s a very eager woman blow him in one of the not so private bedrooms and then a few days later jerks a guy off in the not so private bathrooms. 

It’s annoying but the casual nature of the club at least prevents anyone from getting attached. 

He’s settled in with a drink on his sixth visit and is watching one of the men he’s identified as a mover walk out of the bathroom with a bag he didn’t have when he went in when movement at the other end of the bar catches his eye. 

Bruce looks down the bar and frowns. ‘You have got to be fucking kidding me,’ he thinks as he spots the very familiar head of Clark Kent ordering something that probably barely has alcohol in it. 

“Who’s the new guy?” Bruce asks, leaning forward to get another drink from the bartender. He tips well, but not so well as to draw attention to himself so the bartenders have been free with their information to him.

The bartender snorts. “He’s either a very nice dork who just got dumped and got recommended to come here or he’s vice.”

“Is anyone going to check him out?” Bruce asks, already thinking of and discarding two ideas on how to get Clark out of there without blowing his own carefully crafted cover. 

The bartender laughs. “Oh man, is this your type?” He asks, looking at Bruce and nodding. “No, this is absolutely the type you go for. You hooked up with Maggie right? Same kind of innocent wanting to get dirty might be a cop energy.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at him; he can’t really confirm or deny because he doesn’t remember much at all about that Maggie person. She flirted, he let her, they hooked up and his cover stayed secure. “I don’t only go for the innocent types, it’s not like a thing,” Bruce says, fully immersed in his cover. Mike might be the type of guy who likes his hookups to seem innocent but not want to admit it. That feels at least authentic for this type of khaki-wearing asshole.

“He also hooked up with our dear sweat Brian,” Joe says, he’s one of the regulars who is only outside of the sex viewing space when he’s getting a fresh drink or snorting cocaine. 

It’s Joe’s constant need to restock his supply, his open questioning of a mover to find out when more was coming in, that got Bruce his first view of the operation so he tries to keep Joe close. “Now,” he says, pausing for dramatic effect because he’s an attention whore along with being a voyeur. “I know that Brian is an absolute animal, but this one didn’t know. Totally seduced him.”

Bruce snorts and looks down the bar as Clark sips his drink and makes a face. Definitely not the plain coke Clark probably wanted to order.

“As fun as this is I think I’m going to go make a new friend,” Bruce says, picking up his drink and making his way toward Clark. 

At the very least now he knows his cover is truly in place, these people think they know _Mike_ which means it shouldn’t take much longer to get what he needs to shut the drug trade in the club down.

He steps up behind Clark and drops a hand on his back and says, “Hey there, you mind if I sit?” and tries not to laugh as Clark’s eyes go wide as he looks at him and says, “Uh, yeah, sure.”

*  
“I’m Mike,” Bruce says, holding out a hand to Clark. 

“Uh,” Clark says, flushing. “I’m Kent, it’s nice to meet you.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at Clark and this atrocious cover name. “I haven’t seen you here before,” Bruce says before he takes another sip of scotch. “What brings you here?”

There are too many eyes on them to get a true answer but Clark is smart enough to play along and if Bruce can get him out of the club then maybe he’ll get an explanation and give Clark a crash course in the many ways he’s screwed up on going undercover. 

Clark flounders for a moment then says, “Um, uh well you know,” and then he blushes. 

Bruce resists rolling his eyes but he does give Clark a look as he reaches over and runs a hand across Clark’s back, playing up _Mike’s_ play for the new guy. 

“Maybe we can-” Bruce starts only to be cut off by Clark, being louder than he needs to be and definitely loud enough to be heard by the peanut gallery watching them.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” Clark says, voice way too loud as he turns to Bruce and pointedly raises an eyebrow. 

Bruce rolls his eyes; he’s sure Clark doesn’t actually know what he’s asking or what he’s just done. There is no real private place inside the club but Clark has guaranteed that they’ll be in one of the private rooms with windows and there’s no faking it here.

“Sure,” Bruce answers, flashing his teeth in the barest imitation of a smile. “I know just the place.”

Bruce leads Clark deeper into the club, to the wall of doors and into a dark room that’s barely anything more than a bed with fresh sheets, a small side table with several bottles of lube and several dark windows. 

Clark follows Bruce into the room and then makes a face and starts to ask him, “wait what?” as Bruce backs him up against the door, hands at his waist. 

Bruce lets his lips graze Clark’s ear as he whispers, “You asked to go somewhere more private, loud enough for other people to hear, in a club that mainly traffics in public sex and drugs.”

“Oh,” Clark says, “darn it. I thought it was just drugs.”

Bruce snorts and drops his hands to Clark’s pants and starts working on the belt. Of course, Clark would come in with half the story and immediately get them both into this situation. 

“Sorry, what exactly are you doing?” Clark asks, voice going high as Bruce gets a hand in his pants and palms his dick. 

“I’m maintaining both of our covers,” Bruce says, running his thumb along the tip of Clark’s dick. “I hit on you, you asked to come in here so we need to have sex if we want to maintain our covers.”

Clark blinks. “We,” he starts then stops, eyes darting around the room. “There are people watching us right now.”

“Yeah, that’s one of the features here. Watch people have sex or have people watch you have sex. You can’t fake it here,” Bruce adds, lips grazing Clark’s ear. 

Clark nods and says, “Right, right then,” voice steady and resolved as he reaches for Bruce’s pants. He makes quick work of it before getting a hand on Bruce’s dick. “Should we,” Clark starts and then stops to thump his head back against the door as Bruce jerks him off. “Maybe the bed?” Clark finishes.

Bruce snorts. They’re already giving the rest of the club a pretty good show but he did jerk the last guy off up against a wall _so_ maybe a little variety will help to keep up his cover. Bruce pulls back and starts walking backwards toward the bed, taking tiny half steps as gravity works to pull his undone pants down.

Clark follows him, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants and giving all of their watchers a great view of his perfect alien ass. 

Bruce stops at the foot of the bed, letting his pants pool around his knees and watches as Clark walks toward him. Bruce knows this is to keep their covers and it’s just sex but for a moment he’s struck with an overwhelming _need_. 

Clark stops in front of him, dropping to his knees to help Bruce out of his pants and shoes, only he doesn’t get back up. He looks up at Bruce as he wraps a hand around Bruce’s dick and guides it into his mouth. Bruce groans as Clark takes all of him before pulling back and letting Bruce’s dick nearly slip out of his mouth before taking him in again. Bruce slides his fingers into Clark’s hair and doesn’t look away as Clark sucks him in a way that makes it clear this is not his first time. 

Bruce feels a brief flash of jealousy, of wondering who else got to see Clark like this, on his knees with his lips stretched wide around their dick and he pulls on Clark’s hair, _hard_. Clark doesn’t seem to mind, moaning around Bruce’s dick as he drops the hand gripping Bruce’s hip to his own lap.

That alone almost makes Bruce cum. He pulls Clark’s hair again, not quite so hard but enough to get him to let Bruce’s dick slide out of his mouth as he looks up at Bruce with a frown and says almost in a daze, “what?” 

“There’s a bed,” Bruce says, voice rough. “We should use it,” he adds, sitting down on the bed and then scooting backward and letting his legs fall open just enough for a big alien farm boy to climb up on the bed between them. 

Clark gets the hint quickly, climbing up onto the bed and slotting their dicks together as he settles on top of Bruce. Bruce lets him manhandle him a little, in a sort of apology for the hair pulling, that leaves him with a leg wrapped around Clark’s waist as they grind together. 

“Where,” Bruce starts groaning as Clark drops his mouth to his neck and sucks. “Where did you learn to suck dick like that,” Bruce finishes, grabbing onto Clark’s ass and thrusting up against him hard, already chasing his orgasm. 

Clark doesn’t respond, instead, he groans and tightens his grip on Bruce’s hip, as he thrusts down.

Bruce is close, but he’s been close since Clark put his mouth on him so he works a hand between them and wraps it around both of their dicks and starts jerking them off together. 

“God,” Clark says, thrusting into Bruce’s hand. “You’re a menace,” he mumbles before he breaks off to moan into Bruce’s neck.

Bruce tries to laugh but it comes out as more of a sigh and keeps on jerking them both, hard and fast. “Want me to stop?” Bruce asks, not slowing down as he feels his balls start to tighten and warmth up his back.

“No, please please,” Clark moans and that does it for Bruce. He cums, striping his hand and stomach. And Clark is not far behind him cumming with a groan that Bruce feels everywhere they’re pressed together. 

Bruce lays there for a moment panting and not quite feeling how heavy Clark is against him but all too soon the warning light above the door blinks three times and he knows it’s time to get up. 

“Kent,” Bruce says, nudging Clark in the shoulder. “Someone else wants to use the room so we need to get out.”

Clark lifts his head and stares at Bruce. “Are you...serious?” Clark asks confused. “Do they change out the sheets between or?” He adds, shifting up onto his knees but still hovering over Bruce as he looks at the mess between them. 

Bruce raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you want the true answer or would you like me to stay silent and not horrify you?”

Clark makes a face but he quickly gets with the program and pulls on his pants. Bruce follows him and they’re both halfway presentable and walking out of the room, ignoring a wink from Joe, in minutes. 

Bruce leads Clark back toward the bar but he feels overexposed, still turned on and in definite need of a debrief so he mumbles, “Do you want to get out of here and regroup?”

Clark nods, not turning to look at Bruce and says, “Yeah, yes please,” so they keep walking past the bar to the door and out into the rest of the world. 

*  
“So,” Bruce says, as they settle in back at the Lake House. Alfred is thankfully out of town so the likelihood that they’ll be interrupted is slim. He hands Clark a drink and stands leaning against the kitchen island as Clark makes a circuit of the open plan room, looking around. Bruce forgets sometimes that he doesn’t really have people come up into the house much, usually they stay down in the BatCave when there’s work to be done. 

“Are you okay? Obviously, this evening wasn’t in your plan tonight,” Bruce asks. He’s not exactly worried, Clark took charge as soon as he understood how precarious their situation was but he’s trying to be better. About people and their feelings and the possibility that he might get Clark’s mouth on him again. 

Clark smiles and laughs, a little seemingly at himself as he joins Bruce at the island. “I’m fine. I might have needed a little more intel before I decided to go undercover.”

“You might also need a better cover. Kent Clarkson? Who exactly were you planning to fool with that?”

“It’s a good cover! It’s close to reality so I won’t forget and it’s something I’d respond to anyway.”

Bruce shakes his head. “A good cover should have a story you can remember sure, but it should never be that close to your reality. Mike doesn’t have anything in common with Bruce. Matches doesn’t have anything in common with Bruce.” Bruce says, trying to make Clark understand the value of a real, fully developed cover identity. It’s almost embarrassing that any member of the _Justice League_ would come up with a cover so bad. He has the resources to make them all new identities, there’s no need for anything so amateur hour. 

Clark frowns. “Is that why you have the hair and the contacts?” Clark asks, gesturing at Bruce’s head. “Because it’s really jarring. I had to close my eyes to remem-,” Clark adds then cuts himself off, clears his throat and looks away.

Bruce raises an eyebrow at him. He’s not really the person to let anyone get away with dropping anything, a fact Clark should know by now. “What were you trying to remember Clark?” Bruce asks trying and failing to use his gentle, leading voice. It’s long out of practice.

Clark closes his eyes and sighs. “I don’t want to make things weird,” Clark says, looking over at Bruce. “We have a tendency to go from zero to horrible without much effort.”

Bruce gives him a look. “I spent a nice part of tonight with my hand on your dick while a bunch of people watched us and jerked off,” Bruce says. “I promise I won’t make it weirder than that,” he adds with a shrug. 

“It was just hard, earlier, to remember it was you with the hair and eyes and everything. I had to close my eyes a bunch,” Clark says, voice quiet. 

“I’d think it would have been easier if you could be distracted into thinking it wasn’t me,” Bruce says, confused. Even if things aren’t weird between them it still couldn’t have hurt if Clark could compartmentalize _Mike_ from Bruce. 

Clark makes a face that Bruce isn’t sure how to read. It’s thoughtful and annoyed, more annoyed than he’d expect from Clark. “Why would I want to have sex with a stranger I don’t know or trust? I know people _do_ that but that’s not me,” Clark says as his face clears. 

“I didn’t know you trusted me,” Bruce blurts, then frowns annoyed at himself. That’s on that list of things he doesn’t bring up to the group. 

“I literally sucked your dick an hour ago,” Clark says, irritation leaking into his voice. “I don’t do that for people I don’t trust.”

“Well,” Bruce says, before he pauses and clears his throat. He doesn’t know how he earned Clark’s trust after everything but he’s glad to have it. “That’s good to know. And I uh. I trust you too, obviously.”

“Have you, uh, trusted a lot of men,” Bruce starts, adding extra emphasis on trusted.

Clark frowns. “Well, I mean obviously I put a lot of faith in people and I grew up in a pretty trustworthy community, so,” Clark says, with a shrug. 

“Right,” Bruce says, speaking slowly. “So that means you’ve probably had a lot of practice? Which would explain why you’re so good.”

Clark frowns again then flushes from his neck to the tips of his ears. “Please shut up,” Clark mumbles and Bruce resists the urge to laugh at the way he seems to be trying to will himself invisible. It’s an interesting turn for someone who just boldly stated he’d sucked Bruce’s dick. 

“That was a compliment,” Bruce adds, shrugging. “Your mouth was just,” Bruce sighs. “Fantastic.”

“If you keep talking about my mouth it will never get near your dick again.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “And if I shut up?” Bruce asks, willing his erection to not be quite so obvious. 

Clark looks at him. He steps into Bruce’s space and crowds him back against the island, close enough that Bruce is sure he can feel his erection where it’s starting to strain against his pants and says, “I might be willing to show you how much I trust you again.”

“Well, I guess I’m shutting up,” Bruce says, as Clark’s hands settle at his hips. He’s really looking forward to finding out just how much Clark trusts him. 

THE END


End file.
